The alarm began beeping loudly and Sean tried to swat it like some annoying insect. A swing and a miss… Strike one! His digital alarm clock glared “6:01” at him, while once again Mr. Sun smiled, ever mockingly, at him from the corner of the display.

He had forgotten to change the time of the alarm setting. Sean did not intend to rise quite so early, since he had traded shifts with Kat for the mornings. He didn’t need to go in until that afternoon. Kelly’s shift.

Sean fought with himself to stay in bed and get a little more sleep, but he knew it to be a losing battle. His body arose from his bed and began padding toward the shower, as if on autopilot, while his mind was just along for the trip, still half-asleep.

So, Sean commenced his traditional morning ritual of oral and somatic hygiene, applying his usual biochemical arsenal of dentifrice, mouthwash, soap, and shampoo. After drying himself off by towel and pulling on his underwear, he opened his large closet to choose his togs for the day. He would wear, of course, a pair of blue jeans once again, and maybe another flannel shirt. But it should be something different from yesterday, though.

Immediately he pulled on a pair of blue jeans, but these did not fit quite so well as yesterday’s. The waist was just a little snug and the legs seemed somewhat tighter. He began to worry that he may now be under attack from the Freshman Five!

Uncertain about his choice of shirt, Sean went back to the closet and peeked in it again. Then he thought that perhaps he might check the weather forecast for the day. He stepped out of the bedroom and turned on the television for the local morning news and weather broadcast.

He quickly lost patience with the incessant chatter among the news co-anchors, the meteorologist, and the sports anchorman. Teaser after teaser instead of getting to the news. Sean sighed, partly in frustration, partly in an attempt at self-control. He went to the kitchen cabinets to scrounge up his breakfast instead of let his anger build as the teaser for the weather report cut to yet another commercial break. He did not care that Flora’s Shoes & Handbags were having their 25%-off Annual Red Tag Sale—40%-off when featured shoes with matching handbag were purchased as a set. He did care, though, that Value-Shoppes were offering $1-off the breakfast cereal of his choice, since he was almost out of the shredded whole-wheat biscuits that he had preferred for breakfast recently. He did have enough for today and for one more breakfast, so he’d pick up some on his way in to the coffeeshop this afternoon.

“For today, we can expect lows around thirty degrees Fahrenheit—that’s minus one Celsius—and a high of forty-two Fahrenheit—and again, six degrees Celsius… calm winds out of the northwest under five knots… skies cloudy and overcast all day with a seventy percent chance of light precipitation, most drizzle mixed with snow flurries… So keep warm and dry everyone! Back to you Cindy…”

“So, Tom, did Punxsatawney Phil have it all wrong this year?” Cindy asked back to the weatherman.

“I really can’t say, Cindy,” Tom replied, surprised by the anchorwoman’s inquiry. “Tradition makes his forecast valid only for six weeks. That’s forty-two days, which would just be—until March sixteenth. I’m afraid that we’ve gone beyond that, so we can’t really blame Phil for it.”

“Maybe we can get him a way to look farther into the future,” Cindy tried to extend the banter. “Jared, do we have that filmclip of Punxsatawney Phil with the binoculars?”

At that, Sean slammed his hand down on the power switch, sighing more in relief than in exasperation as the screen blackened. He poured milk on his cereal and also a tall glass of grapefruit juice. He’d dispense with any coffee for now, since he could have a cup before he started his shift in the afternoon. He ate his breakfast fairly quickly and returned to his bedroom to finish dressing.

It would likely be a cold day, so he’d need something warm again. He thought maybe another turtleneck under his shirt. So he reached into the closet and took out a white turtleneck, but it did not look quite right to him. He had noticed its shape across the chest and its zipper in the back. It wasn’t his turtleneck, but Kelly’s. She had left it there, probably by mistake. Then he noticed the delicately embroidered monogram of their high school letters over the left breast. It was the body liner for her cheer uniform. He smiled as he unzipped her garment bag at the extreme left of the closet. Her cheer uniforms were inside, so he placed the body liner back on its hanger and put it into the garment bag and zipped it up again. He also wondered, why she had her high school cheer uniforms at his apartment? But he smiled to himself as he remembered the times when he had worn Kelly’s cheer uniforms.

During his junior and senior years of high school, he had worn her cheerleading uniforms for the Powder Puff Football Tournaments. Those weren’t too bad since he wasn’t by any means the only guy doing it. And Mike had also done it along with him the first year. But still he had been a little embarassed to win the award for the “Prettiest Cheerleader” both years. Also, for Hallowe’en of his junior year, Mike, Kelly, Morgan, and himself had all dressed up as a squad of combined varsity and junior varsity cheerleaders. As weird and anxious as he had felt dressed up like a girl for those events, he still recalled them with the happy nostalgia appropriate to such occasions. Maybe it was how kind and sweet Kelly and Morgan had been to him while he was dressed up. He hadn’t felt quite so nervous with them next to him. They had wanted him to feel like “one of the girls” and for just a while, it had seemed to work.

Kelly had likely worn his white turtleneck by mistake and not yet returned it. In fact, she might not even know that she had it! But he could still wear his black one. (He had worn his blue one the previous day.) This would look fine under an Oxford cloth button-down shirt, which he could then remove if it got too warm behind the counter at work. So, Sean donned his black turtleneck and button-down shirt, then pulled his socks on. He really needed to remember to put his socks on first. This pair of jeans now fit him more tightly in the legs than he thought when he had bought them. That taken care of, he put on his shoes and laced them up securely for both safety and comfort.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

At 7:00 a.m., Sean was ready for his day, although he had not decided what to do next. He tried to study, but after ten minutes, or so, he found that he had been entirely unable to stay focused. He had thought to read more in his mythology texts, but as interesting as they were, his worries for Kelly had overwhelmed him.

In truth, he didn’t really feel like doing anything, given that he had heard no more news of his dear cousin. So he would go to St. Bonnie’s and sit with Kelly as long as he could. He’d then go and cover her afternoon shift at Café Tír na n-Óg.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Remarkably, once he was seated in Kelly’s room, Sean was more able to concentrate. He took out his books to read a few of the stories to his cousin at her bedside. He’d heard that even in a coma, patients would listen and process whatever they heard. So Sean felt that at least he might offer her some entertainment.

He had wondered what went on in her mind while she lay there unconscious. Thoughts? Memories? Dreams? Wishes? Perhaps she would visualize the scenes from Norse legends as he read them to her. Perhaps she might hear the Valkyries singing the songs of bravery by the heroes of Valhalla? He took her hand in his as he prayed for her to awaken.

Time passed quickly for Sean once he began reading to his cousin. Indeed, he completely finished one of the shorter books since he had read to her for some three hours. Fortunately, he had set an alarm in his cellphone so that he would be in time to cover the shift at the coffee shop. Yet he felt sad that he had to leave her again, still comatose.

Then as Sean replaced his books in his backpack, he glanced at Kelly inadvertently, then looked a second time at her.

He could have sworn that he saw her smiling for just a moment.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sean ought to have calculated the time to get from St. Bonnie’s to Café Tír na n-Óg a little more carefully, since he had to pedal hard to make it on time. He was quite winded by the time he arrived at the coffee shop and had already gone inside to punch his timecard before he remembered to secure his bicycle behind the building. But since the lunchtime crowd had dissipated, Sandra allowed him to step out to take care of it after he had clocked in.

Back inside, Sean immediately went to the clothes rack to put on his full-length apron and cap. Their aprons bore their names embroidered over the left breast pocket, which was emblazoned with the coffee shop’s logo. The logo also appeared on the front of the cap. But his were not on their usual coathooks.

“Sandra, can’t find me gear. Isn’t on the rack,” Sean worried openly.

“Oh! Kat still must have it,” the shift supervisor guessed. “She hadn’t planned to work today, so I had sent hers out for cleaning. When she came in today, I told her to wear yours. You can wear your cousin’s. You two are the same size aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but I don’t make a practice o’ wearin’ her things, though.”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me!” Sandra retorted with a giggle.

“Huh?”

“You’re already wearing her clothes.”

“What?” Sean queried with a puzzled look on his face.

“The jeans—you’re wearing her blue jeans,” she answered with a wide grin.

“But I thought these were mine!” protested Sean. “How can you tell?”

“They feel a little tight on you, don’t they?” Sandra asked in turn.

“Yeah, but I thought they’d jus’ shrunk washin’.”

“No, they’re actually cut for a girls figure,” explained his shift supervisor. “And I’ll bet that even though they’re tight in the waist, they feel looser at the hips, but then tighter again in the crotch, right?”

Sean paused for a moment as he realized that he could feel exactly what Sandra had described.

“Yeah, they do,” he confirmed her inquiry.

“And here’s another detail that you’ll have noticed,” his boss continued. “Your fingers fumbled the button on the waistband this morning. That’s because the button is on the left. Girls’ clothes always have their buttons on the left side of an opening, while boys’ always have them on the right. So it felt strange when you were buttoning the jeans.”

His fingertips felt for the top button on the waistband of the jeans that he was wearing.

“The top-stitching also suggests feminine styling,” she added. “But the real clincher is that the label at the waistband above the right hip pocket is Princesse de Nîmes. That’s an obviously feminine trademark and Kelly’s favorite designer jeans. You should really pay more attention to what’s in your closet—speaking of which, how did you end up with her blue jeans, anyway?”

“Sh’keeps three ’r four sets o’ clothes at me place in case she needs t’ change quickly, since me apartment’s only a block away from ’ere and so much closer to campus than ’er home. Besides, the closet’s way larger ’an I really need. Her brother and me sister each keep spare clothin’ there, too.”

“So you mixed hers up with yours, then,” Sandra concluded. “And you weren’t curious enough to check out why they didn’t quite fit when you put them on?

“Guess not,” conceded Sean as he blushed. “Like I said, just thought they shrank in the wash.”

Sandra smiled, shaking her head as she turned toward the shop’s cramped, tiny office. Meanwhile Sean pulled Kelly’s apron on over his head. As he tied it in back, he tried carefully to position the tying to conceal the jeans’ designer label. Giving up after a third failed attempt to tie it so creatively behind him, he secured it in the usual way. Then he threaded his ponytail through the back of the baseball-style cap.

With that, Sean stepped into the main room and behind the counter, nervous that he was wearing his cousin’s hat, apron, and blue jeans.

Debbie was busy clearing the counter after the lunchtime rush, so Sean immediately began helping her with any related tasks as they arose.

“How’s Kelly?” Debbie inquired. “I’m meeting with Shelly after I get off. We’re gonna go see her then.”

“She’s still unconscious,” Sean informed her. “I sat with her all mornin’. There doesn’t seem to be any change. But I could’ve sworn I saw ’er smile just before I left.”

“I’m sorry about Kelly,” she offered Sean as sympathy for his cousin’s plight. “I know you two are close. It can’t be easy waiting for her to wake up.”

“No, Deb. It’s not. Not at all.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The little bell hanging at the top of the door jingled and Sean glanced up to see a guy maybe a little older than himself. For just a moment, Sean considered how they had all learned to glance at the door whenever they heard the tinkling sound of the bell on the door. He would move immediately into customer service without even thinking about it.

The young man approached the counter and addressed him and Debbie, “Good afternoon, Deb, Kelly. How are you guys today?”

“I’m fine, David,” Debbie answered him.

“Me, too. How ’bout yourself?” Sean replied.

The customer almost did a double take at Sean, but Debbie continued, “Can I get you something?”

“I’d like a caffè americano, short, and a currant scone, please.”

Debbie rang up his order while Sean began grinding freshly roasted coffee beans for the espresso machine.

“For here or to go?”

“I’ll have it here today,” David announced handing Debbie a five dollar bill as he turned to address her colleague. “Kelly, can you help me out again Saturday. I need to re-shoot a few of the scenes. The lighting didn’t work out quite like I thought.”

Sean grinned and shook his head.

“Uh—I’m not Kelly. I’m just coverin’ her shift.”

“But you look—“

“I’m Sean, her cousin.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! You look just like her.”

“Hey! It’s all right! People get us confused with each other all the time,” Sean explained. “We’re used to it. We’ve dealt with it since we were little. I’m workin’ her shift ’til she’s able t’ come back.”

“Where is she, then?”

Debbie spoke up. “I’m sorry, David! I thought you knew. Kelly was hurt in an accident yesterday. She’s in the hospital.”

“Sorry! I didn’t know,” gasped David. Is she okay, then?”

“Kelly’s in a coma,” Sean informed him while tamping the fresh grind into a filter. “I was over to see her this morning. No apparent change, really.” Sean inserted the loaded filter into its slot under the steam chamber and twisted the handle tight.

“That’s awful!” David commented. “How’d it happen?”

“She was bicyclin’ yesterday mornin’ down a one-way street,” recounted Sean. “A car turned to go the wrong way at an intersection and they collided head-on. She crashed into his windshield and rolled off it into the street. Her helmet came off in the crash an’ she got a concussion.”

“Was the concussion the only injury?”

“No. She also fractured an arm and two ribs. Bruises and lacerations, too?” Sean then concluded somewhat grimly, “Not pretty. Not at all.”

David looked down and shook his head.

“Cream, sugar, anything?” Sean asked.

“Not today,” answered David, his face showing obvious concern.

“Take a seat and I’ll bring your order out to you,” Sean told him.

“I usually sit over in the corner opposite the stage.”

Steam forced its way through the grounds in the filter, whistling in imitation of a Doppler effect. Sean gathered the dark elixir of impulsive action into a stoneware mug. Then he filled the mug up with steaming hot water and the americano was ready. Debbie put a currant scone on a small stoneware dessert plate and slid it down the counter to Sean, who put it on the tray with a napkin and took it over to David.

“Here’s your currant scone and short americano,” offered Sean, placing the tray on the table. “How d’you know Kelly? From here?”

“Shelly, who works weekends here, is my sister,” David explained, sipping his americano. “She introduced me to Kelly, and I asked her to model for a photo essay that I’m doing for my class project. We did the shoot a few days ago, but a few of the more important shots need to be retaken. She had promised to help me again on the weekend if I needed anything else. But it doesn’t sound like she’ll be up for modeling again anytime soon.”

“No. Guess not,” concurred Sean. “Even if she comes out of the coma today, her arms still in a cast. ’Less you can work around it, modelin’ for you’s not likely. She’ll hate that, too. Kelly takes any promise she makes seriously.”

“She certainly comes across that way,” David remarked as he bit into the scone.

“Nothin’ less than what’s already happened would stop ’er.”

“She was excited about it, too. And I had promised her a few photos to have for her portfolio.”

“Portfolio?” Sean queried. This was news to him.

“Yeah. She’s been assembling one to submit to a modeling agency,” David told him. “I’ve also promised to help her out with her own shoot. But now I gotta figure out how to fix my photo essay without her.”

“I didn’t know Kelly did any modelin’. She usually tells me things like that,” Sean remarked. “Had no idea.”

“That’s prob’ly ’cause she just started. Shelly introduced to her to most of us in class this semester and we all needed models for our project. I’m not the only one she’s done it for. She’s been very popular with our classmates.”

“Kelly gets along pretty well with most anyone,” Sean bragged about his cousin. “So I’m not surprised at that.”

“She’s a natural, really. To begin with she’s gorgeous and her flaming red hair stands out,” David continues. “But she has a lot more than that. Kelly’s photogenic in a big way. And real easy to work with. She knows how to follow a photographer’s directions and stays focused in a pose. Those qualities and skills are not so easy to find. And I think a talent scout from a local modeling agency has been talking to her, too.”

“All seems so sudden,” observed Sean. “Turns out she just started rehearsin’ in a band a few weeks ago. Never mentioned anything to me ’r the family ’bout it. Only found out yesterday when ’er band showed up at the hospital for a visit. She’s got a lot goin’ on.”

“Yeah! It sounds like she’s really busy.”

“She’s always been that way,” recalled Sean. “Likes to multi-task. Makes things happen whene’er she’s around.”

David studied Sean for a moment. “I can’t get over how much alike you and her look.”

“Ever since we were little tykes,” grinned Sean, chuckling quietly. “We’re almost like twins. And I guess it doesn’t help too much that Mom’s always had me wear me hair long.”

“In the photos I took of her, that red hair has such an intense shade, that when it frames her face, it forces your attention on it,” David described as he reached into his backpack and produced a binder with page after page of photographs. He opened it to a select page and turned it around for Sean to view. “Look at these photos. These are great shots to show what I’m talking about.”

Sean examined a number of photos. He was astounded at how Kelly appeared in several of them. “Wow! She’d always look like she was in charge whene’er we’d have family and group photos, but I’ve never seen her like this before,” he said, overwhelmed by her image. “No wonder the scouts are after her!”

“I’d like to think it’s my photography that’s doing it, but even the students who aren’t that good get pics like these when Kelly models,” said David. “I can’t really take too much credit for it.”

“How can you know what’s your contribution and what’s hers?” Sean wondered.

“Good question,” David observed. “And it’s not an easy one to answer.” He turned to another vinyl-covered page of photos. “These are the ones that need to be retaken. Natural lighting is difficult to work with because you have no control over it. You can try the camera at various angles and compose the picture differently, but that doesn’t always get what you want. And as a rule, you need to work quickly because natural light is always changing. Even if there are no clouds, the sun is in constant motion.”

“But Kelly is still giving you her best look in all these pictures.”

“Yes, she is,” acknowedged David. “And that helps so much. Because she’s so consistent, it was easy to conclude that I had not composed the shot so it made the best use of the natural light. When the model is expert, is easier for a photographer to recognize his or her own mistakes. It’s hard to explain, but easy to see.

“You’ll notice that the two male models in the same series of photos don’t show nearly the same presence or focus that she exhibits. That definitely shows how a good model makes a difference. The taller guy is more experienced, has good recommendations, and is highly qualified. But the other one is really new, and even though he has as great a physique as the other guy, he’s untrained and lacks experience. But they both pale next to Kelly. Even though she’s untrained and has almost no experience, she’s just that good naturally.”

Sean studied the photos of his cousin carefully. “She’s wearin’ her varsity cheer uniform in these. Kelly was at her best as a cheerleader. I think it honed her finest character as a person and as a woman.”

“Maybe that’s why she enjoyed the shoot so much,” concluded David. “She puts on a whole personality when she puts on the uniform.”

“Yep, that’s me cousin Kelly!” Sean smiled again. “You should go visit her. She’s in the I-C-U at St. Bonnie’s. Anyway, nice talkin’ with ya, but I gotta get back to the grind. After all, I’m coverin’ this shift for Kelly and if I don’t do it as well as her, she’ll kick me butt ov’r it when she does wake up.”

David returned the smile to Sean and took another sip of his americano. Sean returned to his position behind the espresso bar with Debbie.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Café Tír na n-Óg was not so busy as usual that day, so Sandra offered to allow Sean to leave his shift early and go home to change out of Kelly’s jeans before his evening class. Street traffic notwithstanding, it took more time to unlock his bicycle and then to resecure it at his apartment than to ride it from his workplace to his home.

He was very fortunate to work at a coffee shop no more than a city block from his apartment. Kelly had worked there first and recommended that Sean apply for an opening. Again, he thought about how many times his cousin had helped him and his sister Morgan out.

Just as soon as Sean arrived back at his apartment, he changed out of his cousin’s blue jeans. He was very careful to observe the feminine details which Sandra had noticed. He chuckled at himself as he thought back to his verbal exchange with Sandra at the coffee shop. He had been so careful to observe which turtlenecks belonged to his cousin, so how had he missed that these were Kelly’s jeans that morning? From the front, they looked like any other jeans, just like his. But from the sides and rear, Sandra was right. The top-stitching was definitely feminine. And inside, the lining was a pretty teal color.

Next, Sean made certain that he was donning a pair of his own blue jeans. He definitely felt more comfortable in his own. Most importantly, his crotch no longer felt so tightly squeezed. Not until he was back in his own did he appreciate just how tight his cousin’s jeans had been on him.

So as not to repeat such a mistake, Sean took some time to move all of Kelly’s and Morgan’s clothes to one end of the walk-in closet. Carefully, he checked each pair of jeans for details of gender. Also, he noted the positions of buttons on his and Mike’s shirts and compares them to the girls’ blouses. He had never noticed that buttons were on opposite sides before. So Sandra was right about that, too. That was curious to him. It made sense that men’s and women’s clothing were cut differently because hips and breasts gave differently shaped bodies, but why would buttons be on opposite sides? He had heard that women were more likely to be left-handed, but he did not even think that were true. He would have to research that.

Sean looked at the clock next to his bed and decided he needed to get to campus soon. His course in computer programming (C++) was that evening and he looked forward to it. There was a lecture, but the course was mostly lab and he had already made good progress on his project design. He liked learning that way, since the tools in the programming environment helped him evaluate his work almost immediately.

All that Sean still needed was to put his programming text into his backpack along with a couple bars of soft granola and a can of an energy drink. He thought then to update his memory wand with his most current drafts of homework and powered down his desktop. With that Sean began his short trek to the campus.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Usually he would have been eagerly working on his lab assignment, fully absorbed in the details of the C++ programing language, but once again, Sean’s thoughts were distracted by his cousin’s condition. Jack, his lab partner, observed his lack of focus.

“Hey Sean, what’s wrong?” Jack asked his friend. “You’re just not yourself tonight.”

“Sorry, Jack,” apologized Sean. “My cousin Kelly’s in the hospital. I’m really worried about her.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She was in an accident yesterday morning. She was ridin’ her bicycle to work and a car turned the wrong way into her lane and they crashed. She flew into the car’s windshield and got a concussion. Now she’s in a coma.”

“I’m wond’ring if that’s the accident I saw on the local news yesterday?”

“At least one of the local stations had posted a video report on their website.”

“Are you and her close? Jack asked.

“Very!” Sean replied. “She’s more sister to me than cousin. In fact, most folks think we’re twins.”

“Twins?”

“Yeah! Me and her look so much a like. At work today I was coverin’ her shift an’ a guy she knows mistook me for her. We’re used to it, though. Happens all the time.”

“Well, I hope she’ll be okay,” Jack offered. “And that goes for you, too!”

“Thanks, Jack. I’m gonna talk to the prof and ask ’im if I can leave at break.”

Jack just looked at his lab partner for a moment, almost staring, until Sean broke the awkward silence.

“What?” Sean asked.

“Huh? Oh!” Jack seemed to have his mind elsewhere, too. “Believe it or not, I was trying to picture you as a girl. Wouldn’t Kelly look like you dressed as a girl?”

“Not really,” Sean denied with a grin. “We might look alike, but she’s the prettier one.” He reached into his windbreaker’s pocket for his wallet. “Take a look at this group photo. That’s me next t’er in the middle, ’er brother Mike an’ me sister Morgan. We’re all more like siblings than cousins.”

“So you’re the redhead in the skirt?” Jack teased Sean, who responded by lightly slapping the back of his head. The two lab partners just laughed.

And somehow, for the first time in two days, Sean felt just a little relaxed, as if maybe Kelly would be all right after all.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sean had printed off what he hoped to be the final draft of his assignment for his course in Nordic mythology, a prospectus for his term paper. It began with an abstract of the proposed thesis and a formal outline of the paper. He was wanted to compare the Trickster in Nordic and Celtic mythoi, but the professor was requiring all the students to meet with her to discuss their specific proposed theses before beginning their research.

After getting home early from class, he had tried to be more relaxed, but Sean was too worried about Kelly. But he had discovered that only mythology allowed him to think about anything else. Perhaps that indeed was the nature of myth, simply to allow one to make sense of what otherwise seems senseless.

Taking blue pencil in hand, Sean had returned to his desk to begin editing his draft when his cellphone rang out the opening bars of The March of Brian Boru.

“Hello!”

“Is this Sean?”

“Yeah! Who’s this?”

“I’m David, Shelly’s brother. Remember? From the coffee shop?”

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t recognize your voice. But how’d you get my number?”

“From Shelly, who got it from Sandra. Am I bothering you right now?”

“Not really. I’ve been writin’ up an assignment for a class and was goin’ t’ edit another draft. But it’s not due yet and I’ve been workin’ on it ever since I got home. To be honest, I welcome the interruption.”

“I’ve been thinking about what to do since Kelly’s not available to model again for my photo essay any time soon,” explained David. “I’ve got a really big favor to ask you, and it might sound just a little crazy, but please hear me out before you say anything.”

“What kind of favor do you have in mind?”

“Well, Sean, have you ever dressed up like a girl?”

“What?”